


Abgesang

by Likimeya



Category: Ancient History RPF, Classical Greece and Rome History & Literature RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Ancient History, Ancient Rome, M/M, Roman Empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-10
Updated: 2010-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-09 09:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likimeya/pseuds/Likimeya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stood at the stern of the Egyptian pleasure barge and contemplated the end of his future…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abgesang

**Author's Note:**

> There were many rumours in antiquity about Antinous' untimely death and the reasons for it. Murder? (Self-)sacrifice? Suicide? I have always preferred the least ghastly version. Also, I wanted to give Antinous a voice that shows him as something else than the vain and silly boy Hadrian's disproportionate and extravagant way of mourning makes him look so easily.

_Q. Fabio Catullino et M. Flavio Apro consulibus, IX kalendas Novembris_

 

He stood at the stern of the Egyptian pleasure barge and contemplated the end of his future. In the glorious afternoon sunlight the stream under them was the colour of lead. How fitting, he thought as he leaned over the railing: the element of the underworld gods, the fabric of love spells and curses. (Which one was he under?)

His father had always predicted that his romantic dreaming would be the death of him. But he had meant it in a condescending, hurtful way and had not credited him with the courage to do what he had to do now to keep the romantic's dream that was his life intact: to end it before it soured to a nightmare. Given these circumstances, he didn't think he deserved the derision with which his father had always complained about his son's self-indulgent yearning for a different life. He had never been that silly, self-enamoured kind of a dreamer. He had not fancied himself a second Ganymede waiting for a handsome mighty king to spirit him away. He had been caught as unprepared as the next person when that did in fact happen.

Nor did he live under the illusion that he would remain forever young and beautiful, and with a rightful claim to the place beside the throne for all eternity. He knew himself and what he was. The jealous and the mocking thought he recognised only the statutes of Eros, but he did worship in the temple of Apollo. Not a Ganymede, but rather a Hyacinth.

He had seen his future among the courts of the oriental monarchs that had presented themselves before their sovereign. It did not make much difference that his body was still intact. Never having acquired any qualifications that would recommend him to the real world, he was in exactly the same position as they were. He would be just like them: clinging on to a life whose expiration date was long past; hovering always on the fringes; demeaning themselves by doing the basest tasks to earn their keep in a place where, if they were honest, they did not even want to be anymore; gossiping spitefully about the younger versions of themselves who were flaunting their charms before them; unlovable, tolerated as a necessary evil, kept only because their one-time admirers were too soft-hearted or pious to exile them as, in the depths of their resentful hearts, they so wished they were able to do.

That was something he never would allow himself to become, much less in this most Roman court that was more like an elite army camp, with little place and patience for superfluous ballast. Far better to go now and be remembered as the person he really was.

He was glad that he had waited until now. What more poetic place was there to die than this vast river, mighty Neilos who had brought life and death to so many before him, beasts and men and gods? Liquid eternity, larger than life. It would carry him to the sea like the autumn leaves it had swept away for time out of mind, cleansing the land, making room for a new cycle.  
And also… alone at night, when the door had been shot on the pious public selves, they had laughed about the rambling elderly priest and his weird notions about Osiris' day. But, paradoxically, now in the broad light of the god's day, watching the sparkles of the reflected sunlight flitter across the mighty river's waves in a spirited dance, he could believe in any magic, even the darkest. And if on this portentous day there was the slightest chance that this not, in fact, all too selfless action should help to prolong another, infinitely more important and precious life, as the priest had tried to make them believe – all the better.

One last look at the maker of his fortune, the one who, in the last seven years, had shown him the world and let him live a life filled with adventure and wonder and love he hadn't imagined to experience in ten times as many years. He was currently engaged in a seemingly pleasant talk with several high-ranking guests; only somebody very familiar with his habits would notice the irritated way in which he picked at the peppermint bunch in his water, betraying exasperation to the attentive eye. He was relieved that he did not feel his gaze and return it. Because looking at this great man with the serenity of unchallenged gravitas in his eyes and a countenance that was made to be sculpted in everlasting marble, he could never have believed that anything in their lives would ever have to end.

But it had to be now, while his resolve was unbroken; while the mighty god of the day, who had once triumphed over death, gave him the strength to voluntarily do what had been inflicted on himself by force. It had to be now.

He regretted for a short moment that the last thing he would ever hear was his name cried out in anguish. But then the waves closed above him and the other world was dead to him. Neither airborne Ganymede nor landlocked Hyacinth, in the end. Instead, Narcissus giving in to the nymph before self-indulgence took the life out of him in a different way.


End file.
